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Ainsley jerked, and a blot of ink from her quill dropped onto the ledger. “Oh, dear, how clumsy of me.”
The butler swiftly sprinkled some sand on the ink and blotted it up. “Easily remedied, madam.”
“I suppose I need that coffee, after all,” she said as the footman came in with a tray.
“I can finish the accounts if you like,” Henderson said as he poured her a cup.
“No, I promised Lady Arnprior I would take care of them. I know you’re a bit short-staffed at the moment, without a housekeeper.”
Ainsley fortified herself with the coffee, and then with the butler’s efficient help quickly finished the household accounts and started on the menus for the following week.
“I understand that Mr. Royal is quite fond of scallops,” she said. “Perhaps if Cook can find fresh ones at the—”
“Beg pardon, Mr. Henderson,” William said, sticking his head into the room. “There’s a visitor for Lady Ainsley. I told him my lady wasn’t at home today, but he insisted.” The footman grimaced. “Strongly insisted.”
Ainsley never took callers unless either Royal or Logan was in the house. Her husband had suggested the tactic to prevent surprises from unwelcome visitors. At the time, she’d thought it an overreaction. Now she felt a shiver of apprehension.
“Who is it, Will?”
“Lord Cringlewood, my lady. I tried to turn him away, but he insisted that ye’d want to see him.”
For a few awful seconds, black dots swarmed across her vision and the breath stuck in her lungs. She clutched the edge of the desk. How could Cringlewood be in Glasgow? Had Mamma known he was already traveling to Scotland when she’d dispatched her letter? To withhold that information seemed too great a betrayal, even given her mother’s level of anger.
“Do you wish me to see the marquess off the premises?” Henderson asked. “William and I will be happy to do so.”
Ainsley was surprised by the hard expression in the older man’s normally kind eyes. Clearly, Royal had apprised him of the magnitude of the potential danger from the marquess.
“Aye, my lady,” added William, looking pugnacious. “I’ll fetch one of the other lads and we’ll make short work of it, dinna ye fear.”
Her anxiety abated a jot, knowing that the staff would protect her. Still . . .
She jumped to her feet. “Where’s Tira?”
Henderson stood too. “In the nursery, napping. One of the nursemaids is with her.”
Ainsley leaned against the back of her chair in relief.
Think. What do I do next?
“Should we send for Mr. Royal?” Henderson asked.
Her heart clutched at the idea of Royal meeting Cringlewood. For a moment, she was overcome with the enormity of the secrets she’d been holding back from him. Part of her was tempted to flee, to snatch her sleeping child from the nursery and disappear through the back door, running as far as she could to escape the danger hurtling toward her.
“Madam, what are your wishes?” Henderson said in a quietly urgent tone.
Her wishes.
What she wished for was a life without fear. To be honest with herself and with her husband, no matter the consequences. She wanted to stop being so bloody afraid, both for herself and for Tira.
It was time to confront the monster, once and for all.
“Where is Lord Cringlewood now?”
“I put him in the antechamber off the hall, my lady,” William said.
“Is he alone?”
“Aye.”
